The Martyr's Last Test
by BaltoLuver63
Summary: Inspired by David Hopkins' furry webcomic, Jack. A dying wolf struggles to keep both his sanity and his Christian faith intact while waging an internal war against a powerful evil with the help of an angel named Central during the last days of his life.
1. I

This is a little fic I've been working on for the last few weeks (when I haven't been busy trying to complete my Balto KodiXDusty fanfic Newfound Emotion, that is). It's been praised by a few of the forumites who frequent the Jack comic strip, so I figured I'd post it here for anyone who's curious.

All _Jack_ characters belong to the wonderful Mr. David Hopkins - whom I have a great respect for. All the rest belong to me, but feel free to use them so long as you give me credit or ask permission.

Well, now that all that legal bullcrap is out of the way, let the tale begin! I hope you enjoy it!

**The Martyr's Last Test  
By BatloLuver63**

**Dedication**: I'm not sure how you'll feel about this, Rafe, but I just have to dedicate this to you. In the short time we've known each other, you've become a very good friend and mentor of sorts to me - I've lost track of how many hours of your free time you've given up to help me fine-tune this to the best of your ability both on and offline. I thank you from the bottom of my heart and extend to you my warmest thoughts and best wishes. May God forever bless and keep you, my friend.

**I**

He couldn't stop, not even at the very end when he was staring death full in its craggy face. It wasn't a personal need like those he'd been subject to during those few fateful years before he heeded the Calling. More, he didn't want to stop; there was some deep-rooted almost archaic sense of pleasure tied to the act. He hadn't cried, hadn't begged, and hadn't even said so much as a single word during the whole hellish process. He didn't question why it had to be now that God called him home as He had so many before him. It hadn't crossed his mind to wonder why he had been the only one to even make it to the door, the only one who hadn't been instantly killed in the blast.

**_You just don't know when to quit, do you?_** An inner voice – the one that sounded as though it were coming from a mouth clogged by decaying seaweed and tar – rasped, making him wince as it echoed thunderously inside his throbbing, bloodied head. **_You saw the signs, clear as day they were, but still you pushed on like the stupid, good-for-nothing waste of fur you've always been right from square numero uno and now you're two inches from a one-way trip to the Great Beyond. Way to go, dipshit._**

He considered this, letting the thought roll this way and that, trying to make sense of it. It was so hard to think, so very hard…just what had happened to all that useless gray matter stuffed between his ears and behind his eyes? _So what if I did?_ He retorted, as he once more tried to coax his ruined hand to grasp the bloodstained .45 automatic, willing the torn muscles and smashed bones in his right arm to move. _So what if I saw them? What'd you expect me to do, turn a blind eye to His plans for me?_ A smile graced his tired face and he would've chuckled if he'd only remembered how. _Sorry, but I think I'm old enough to know where my loyalties lie. And as for death…I'm afraid you can't hold him over my head any longer._

The gun…. The _gun_…. Come on, you've got to get rid of it. They'd given it to him…probably hoping he'd do them a favor and damn himself. He hoped they weren't holding their breath. He panted, sweat running down his pallid furry face. Blood pounded at his temples and his vision was getting spotty. Knowing it was no use, he stopped trying to grab the weapon in the twisted remains of his right hand, grab it so he could throw it away. Sons-of-bitches would probably just put another bullet in him if he showed signs of using it for anything other than its intended purpose, even if he did somehow manage to lift it with his shattered arm. He collapsed back against the dirty wall with the swollen red flag of his tongue draped over his blood-caked teeth and cracked lower lip.

**_Mmm…getting thirsty are we?_**

_No, not really. I'm just peachy_, he retorted, forcing himself to smile. _Nice try though; for a second there you almost had me believing you actually care._

**_She's a liar, you know._** Lower, more silken this time, trying to project the air of wisdom after which both man and beast had so long sought. **_She's lying to you at every turn, clouding your mind with all that hypocritical bullshit you read in your damned Good Book, trying to steer you away from what's really important…and you're sittin there, eatin' it up the fuckhead you are._**

_If she lies…then what reason have you given me to believe you're telling the truth?_ He countered.

**_Well, how about this, Ash-slut; have you ever even seen Him? Face-to-face I mean?_**

He shrugged. _Who am I to ask to behold Him in all His Glory before I've even completed the work He assigned me, tell me that will you?_

**_I could give you power, you know. Unimaginable power, unprecedented power. Just say the words! Renounce this Son of Man and come follow me…and I will lead you to a place where your ever desire will be fulfilled beyond your wildest dreams. I could take you away from here, help you become a King, hell a GOD! I will give to you all the nations of the world if you will bow down and worship him._**

He smirked and let out an amused snort. _Stooping to plagiarism are we? Tisk, tisk, tisk. I thought you had more sense than th –_

**_And just how much 'sense' did you show when you broke that rapist's nose a few months back?_** It hissed, all but burning through his brain. **_You might've been 'talking the talk' but you certainly weren't 'walking the walk' then, were you?_**

_He's forgiven me since then, as He has washed clean all those who believe._

**_Oh come on, God doesn't play by those bullshit rules you're always reading about. You think he's going to let you off the hook for…say, shooting a fur?_** A hand of ice seemed to grip his heart. The demon chuckled. **_Ooohh, didn't know about _that_ one, did we?_**

_What happened to you to make you so biased towards Him? What unmerciful wrong did He do you in your eyes, hmm? Answer me that._ He shot back, glaring at the dirty concrete floor of his cell, eyes fixed on a pile of bloodstained rags he'd been using to try and bandage his wounds a while back but soon gave up on. The voice was silent. He shook his head. _No, wait, scratch that, do you even have a point to all this madness? Do you actually think I'm going to believe that load of crap you're trying to shove down my throat? You're beating a dead horse, my friend. Save your pagan talk for those more foolish than I._

**_You maimed a fur, Ashley._** Down to a secretive growl now, trying to sound convincing no doubt. **_Maybe you didn't kill him, but I'll tell you what; you knocked the fuck out of him, that's for damn sure_**.

His eyebrows knitted together and a thick vertical crease split his brow. _Maybe so…but I've repented since then and He's forgiven me._

The thing bellowed laughter inside his head, making a sound like a kitten being drowned…badly. **_Never try and bullshit a bullshitter, buddy-boy; you might not want to believe it, but I know deep down you ain't changed one bit since then…and you don't even want to know what you were like before all this._**

Here it was again, that indication of some past even he couldn't remember. But that was crazy…wasn't it? He couldn't listen to this thing – his whole being screamed against it – but what if maybe, just maybe…it was right in this regard? He didn't believe most of what the thing crawling inside his head like an overgrown cockroach had preached to him over the years, yet lately it seemed intent upon thrusting this idea upon him at every opportunity. Why? He shook his head. It didn't matter, it was just trying to confuse him, that was all. Best not to dwell on what was only more smoke and mirrors.

_Not this again…._ Trying to affect annoyance. _How many times - _

**_I can't believe they'd wipe your _entire_ memory! I mean sure, I knew they'd take away some of it – how could you live with yourself if they hadn't? But this, _THIS_ is just too rich!_** More laughter gurgled up from the fiend's throat. _**And I'll bet that lying bitch still hasn't told you about it yet, ah Christ this is the best!**_ Laughter, even more insane rang out inside his head, make him screw his eyes shut in and growl in frustration. _Why!?_ Why was this thing always able to come back? No matter how many times he was able to send it away, each time it returned, only stronger than before until he hadn't the force of will to expel it anymore.

**_Oh man, you killed everyone and I do mean _EVERYONE! _Men, women, didn't matter! You slaughtered em' all, from little pissant two years olds to 90-year old geezers who couldn't even remember their own _names! _You were a fuckin' _maniac_, my friend, a regular section 8 _psycho_, in a class by yourself!_**

_Shut up._

**_Even that Russian fuck and that other German bastard with that queer Little mustache _combined_ ain't got nothin' on what _YOU _did!_** A laugh of blackest delight echoed in his head.

_Shut up!_ He snarled, teeth grinding like tectonkic plates.

It paid no heed. **_Why I remember watching you slaughter a whole fuckin' orphanage, kids and all! Just dumped a couple a gallons of gasoline on the works, lit a her up with a zippo and then just sat there with the rest, smoking a cig, watching them all burn alive while they screamed their heads off for their par- _**

"_Shut up, shut up, JUST SHUT **UP!**_" He suddenly roared, surprised at his own blind rage. This was bold, even for one such as him who had not stopped preaching the Gospel even under threat of imprisonment and death…but in the worst of times, those who have faith shine brightest, or so she said…. His head whipped violently from side to side, blood from the still fresh wounds in his face splattering the walls of his cell. He pushed on recklessly, paying no heed to what long experience with this thing had taught him. He didn't care what it took; all he wanted was to get this demon, this – this _devil_ out of his head!

"No, it's your turn to listen, you conniving sadist! I don't care if I have to fight you tooth and claw; I want you gone, do you get me, chief!?" He snarled, throat rumbling like a semi going up a hill. "I've carried you with me, listening to all that blasphemous garbage you've poured in my ears day and night for God alone knows how long and I'm done listening! Now get out...leave me so I can at least die with some semblance of peace. Do you hear me!? _GET OUT OF MY HEAD, **RIGHT NOW**_!!!"

He had long ago decided that this particular voice came not from within but from some otherworldly place…one where the air stank of sulfur and brimstone. It wasn't just a feeling either; over the years it had whispered to him almost constantly, sometimes in his very ear…and at such times he could not only feel it trying to worm its talons, its yellowing decayed fangs

(all the better to eat you with my dear)

into his mind but he could smell it too, literally smell him…or maybe it was a her? He'd always associated that malign stink to be male but he supposed that it wasn't entirely –

Enough.

He wouldn't go there. Gender didn't matter, not this late in the game that was. The voice was evil; that was the bottom line. Whatever it might say to the contrary, however much it might try to convince him that it had been sent by some nameless power higher than even God Himself, it'd always sounded too sure of itself. He supposed that it had inhabited other, weaker souls than he, and, over the years, had grown accustomed to control…. A determined snarl twisting his muzzle, distorting his already tortured face. He could feel his throat pusling and knew his sudden outburst had cost him dearly, but it had been worth it. Let the thing try, if it would... It would find he wasn't quite so easy to persuade as the others it might've broken before.

**_Is that a challenge, _Priest?** It sneered.

Now he felt a small touch of fear. The wolf had never before heard this tone coming from the unseen creature in his head and so it took him a little longer than usual to put a name to its attitude; bloodthirsty eagerness, like a child who is only seconds away from attaining some long-desired play toy. This thing was actually _hoping_ for the a confrontation so it could finally ravage him with fangs as well as claws. Did he dare take a stand against a foe that delighted in such devilry?

**_What, have you nothing to say, oh brave Christian soldier? You were certainly adamant enough only a second ago…where is your fire now?_** Now its voice held an infuriatingly mocking note, though he did not yet dare rise against it…not yet at least.

Swallowing, he looked toward the cracked ceiling of his prison cell, searching for something, anything to keep his attention and keep his tired mind from breaking, knowing he would need every ounce of power he could muster if only to survive. His fevered cerulean eyes which had once so enchanted even the most concieted females during the years before God had called him to Ministry fixed on a single crack running all the way from one wall to the other like a thick dry riverbed. He starred at it, trying to gather his will and focus it.

_Come closer, and you shall feel it soon enough, for He is on my side,_ he taunted, trying to project a strength even he knew he did not posses. _I've my soul…and I've my Faith. What kind of weapon do you have that could possibly frighten me, Demon? If you think I still fear physical pain, let me set the record straight for you; I've already been through Hell…and found it severely lacking. So come then, try me out…black against white, your faith against mine. We'll see which one holds true in the end._

**_Don't tell me you're going to trust that know-it-all bitch over me again?_** It sounded incredulous. **_You're not going to let her sweet talk you into keeping up this ridiculous farce are you? What the fuck has God ever done for you that you should bear so much in His name? How can you go through all this for a God who's deserted you in your darkest hour!?_ ****  
**  
_He's done more than enough for a wretch like me, who's not even worthy to kiss the ground He trod on. He was willing to forgo His only son for my sake, and the Son in turn offered himself in my stead so that I might be saved. How can I accept such a gift and not be willing to give up everything I have, even my life - pitiful, ugly thing that it is - for even the slightest chance to know Him better and thereby enter His Kingdom, kneel before His throne and call Him Master?_

He cried out, feeling a sudden pain burst into life behind his eyes. His breath came in ragged gasps, heart hammering like a jackhammer in his chest. He'd known it would be bad - it had been so before - but this...this was worse than he could've imagined. Blood began trickling from his nose as the pressure in his head soared to an unnaturally high level.

**_Did He save those babes from malaria in Africa all those years ago, even when you prayed night and day for Him to take you instead? No? Hmm, okay then, how about your sister, huh? When she and that cock-sucking husband of hers had their baby after trying for three fucking years, did He let her have it? No, you sure? Well, let's see here… _****_  
_**  
The voice rose to an roaring maelstrom inside his head, making his head throb. He couldn't take much more if this kept up. As if to underline this fact, he was suddenly pitched forward as two red flags unfurled themselves from his nose to splatter the floor. _Please_ he begged, _please God make him stop…._ But God apparently had a higher purpose for him in mind and so the Demon did not stop, rather its voice only seemed to increase in volume, thundering inside his head until he feared it would burst. Anguished tears began to stream down his cheeks, mixing with the blood and dirt that already stained his once alabaster fur.

**_Is it really worth all this pain, all this suffering for a man – a filthy _human_ – whom you've only ever read about? Tell me truthfully…just what has God ever done for you that you should feel so obligated to spread the Word of some long dead human whom a majority of your kind have never even heard of, let alone believe in?_**

His head hurt, oh _why_ did it have to hurt so much…it hurt to even think, but he had to say this, had to even if it meant his life or his sanity…because not to say it would mean pushing away all that which he had come to embrace. If such a sacrifice was required, then he would offer himself and be glad of it. _Because I…I must, for He has saved me. He…has called me…to do His will…and I cannot refuse…for I love Him too much...to turn my back...on all those...who've yet to hear...His Great Message...and join me in salvation. His Love...is great...and in the end...it will win out. That…that is why…you'll never…never turn me._

All the strength seemed to run out of him and he fell forward, his head striking the stone floor hard enough to make his teeth rattle. He didn't feel the explosion of pain in his jaw as it cracked. The pain blasting through his already aching head ate it up. He sneezed involuntarily, sending a crimson fan blasting from his mouth and nose.

The demon laughed. **_I have eaten sinners and so-called prophets like you for breakfast, lunch and dinner and still had room left over for a second helping at every meal…what makes you think your pitiful scrap of Faith is a match for me, Believer? Think about it…just one bullet would be enough to do the trick and you wouldn't – _**

"Please…stop it, stop it…stop it!" He tried to scream, but all that came out was a dust-chocked crow-croak of despair. The pain mounted to an unbearable level. He could literally feel his brain throbbing from the strain. The agony he had suffered earlier was as nothing compared to this. It would kill him, there was no way around it! It –

And suddenly, the pain was gone, just like that. A cry of relief bubbled from his throat. And then he heard it.

_Ashley…?_

His heart swelled and his eyes flooded with tears, yet he barely noticed; he was too caught up in the wonderful feeling of relief that flooded his exhausted body. It was she, had to be, oh praise _God_ –

_M…Miss Central…is…was that you?_ He asked, his heart filling with joy as he heard her reply.

_Yes, Ashley, I'm here now._

Her voice was like an angel's, soft and sweet, like the coo of a dove. It sent a surge of pleasure rippling throughout his broken body, driving away his pain…for how long he didn't know, but for now that ceased to matter. He was at peace…and the voice, that other far more disgusting voice, was also gone. He began to weep silently, throwing up hodge-podge praises to his Lord even with his broken jaw in his gratitude.

_Thank...thank you, Central...I can't...I don't have the strength to push him out anymore. If you hadn't come..._ He shuddered at the implications.

_His is a powerful evil...but no nightmare lasts forever, and He will soon free you from his influence._

_He hurts, Lady...but they're almost as bad. They've taken everything from me…even my virginity._ His tears flowed faster, stinging his eyes like acid, but he didn't have the strength left in his one barely working arm to wipe them away and so he let them go trailing down his cheeks to mix with the dark blood pooling on the floor. _They...they castrated me...only finished cauterizing the wound…._ He choked, spat out a mouthful of blood like the world's messiest wag of chewing tobacco.

_You are privileged Ash; you are being allowed to join the ranks of the precious few souls willing to sacrifice everything – even their life – for your Lord. We are called to face many trials that test us, but they only serve to strengthen our belief. Take solace, dear heart, in the knowledge that this life and whatever torments that accompany it is only temporary and the reward is eternal._

He gave his head a feeble nod, disgusted with himself for his momentary lapse. _Forgive me. Pain has made me foolish... Pay no mind to my selfish woes. Tell me, is He pleased? Am I doing well in his eyes? Please tell me…I'm tired, Miss Central…I'm so very tired, but if I know I'm serving Him…the way He m…meant me to then I can go on for as long as it takes until His work is done._

_You've shown Faith in a time when many others would've rencanted, and will go on to inspire many to turn to Him when stories of your courage and strength of heart reach their ears. He is very pleased._

_Tell Him…tell Him I want to stay a while longer, if you will._ He didn't know how long this torture would last, but this was also something he needed to say. _I'm not finished yet…the Work isn't done…there are more…so many more I could save._ Bloody vomit exploded from his mouth as his weakened body began to fall into further disrepair as he struggled to stay awake.

_You've done enough Ashley; you've done what He created you to do. Hundreds have been saved through your efforts to spread His Good News and more –_

"N…not…enough…." He spoke in a low, raspy gurgling voice, nearly choking on the bloody mess still sticking to the back of his throat. "Th…there are…still more…children…hear…."

_Just one more, please,_ he pleaded, eyes burning, heart hammering, _let me tell one more person of the Glory of His Love, His Forgiveness, His –_

_Ashley, shh, please, lie still now. Your body is weak…you must rest._

He nooded imperceptibly. He couldn't deny her; he never could. What a sucker for the babe he was. She was just so kind and gentle, such a glaring contrast to that other more callous and baneful spirit who frequented his head. Yet he couldn't keep himself from one last placation.

_No, wait…please…don't go yet._ He begged, beginning to panic in spite of himself; anything to keep that other voice from coming back, from torturing him again with its hellish inhuman tones. _I like talking…to you…soothing…beautiful._

He was fading fast, and he knew it was no good to fight it. He had not the strength. And so he let his eyes finally slip closed and passed out of a world filled with pain and agony, tears and blood, desperation and despair and entered a world all his own….

He dreamt….

**Author's Note**:  
Well, there you are. The first installment. Though I'm not entirely sure it's ready, if I don't post it now, I never will. Central still seems to need some work, but I think I've got her down pretty well all things considered. The dialogue seems choppy to me in some parts as well, but that's probably just me being parinoid. Anyway, tell me how I'm doing and if I should continue with this piece.

Thanks so much for reading this! God bless you!

**BaltoLuver63**


	2. II

**II**

_He is lying flat on his back, his wide blue eyes staring straight into a clear blue sky, his body cushioned by some blessedly soft surface. What a sky it is…so clear and so blue, never has he known such a perfect hue, never in life. He knows without thinking that no planes have ever flown overhead, no factories have ever tainted its perfection with their acrid black smoke; no, not this sky. It is perfection itself, looking as fresh as though it was gleaming from the mold only seconds before even though countless eons have no doubt passed under its blue expanse. _

_Yet, what's this he feels, brushing against his face with a touch like silk and a whisper of velvet? He tears his eyes from that breathtaking sky and instead turns his head to the right, looking for the source of that spin-tingling sensation. His eyes fall upon a rose, and the heart beating in his chest seems to still at the sight of it. It is without a doubt the most perfect flower he has ever seen, petals the color of thick rich blood and an elegant, acidic green stalk, encircled by cruel-looking thorns. The vision of this most perfect creation blurs abruptly and he sits bolt upright, raising an alarmed a hand to his startled face, thinking something must be wrong with his eyes; he's going blind…or maybe something worse. His fingers come away wet, and there is something trailing down his cheek. He blinks in surprise as he realizes he's crying, and over the sight of nothing more than a rose. The realization puzzles him, for never in life was he what some would call an emotional fur. _

_His heart receives a sudden jumpstart, leaping clear of his chest and lodging all the way in the back of his throat. He stares, his streaming eyes wide with wonder and amazement as he sees the field laid out before and all around him. It is a vast field, one whose exact dimensions he can only guess at, as the edges span farther than even the horizon itself. He is reminded fleetingly of the midwestern plains of Nevada or perhaps the badlands of North Dakota, though neither one ever held such an overabundance of beauty. _

_He is sitting in a field of the richest, most vivacious roses he has ever seen. They fill his whole range of vision, spread out across the cosmic expanse of field like an ocean of blood. His tears flow faster, and he wipes at them absentmindedly, only succeeding in rubbing them deeper into his fur. He knows not why the sight should awaken such feelings of…of what exactly? Bliss? Ecstasy? No. The words don't – no, can't do justice to the emotion coursing through him, not by a hundredth, not be a thousandth. His body seems to thrum in time with some underlying rhythm, inaudible even to ears as sensitive as his own. He breathes a sigh of utmost pleasure, and the air he inhales tastes of some alien odor both sickly sweet and inexplicably blissful. He supposes it is the musk of the roses…and wishes faintly that he knew how to bottle the scent, for such an aroma would be enough to bring anyfur to tears. _

_He looks down, and discovers that his hand has crawled away from the leg of his faded blue jeans and now holds a single rose stem pinched delicately between his first and second fingers. He wonders dreamily how it would be to pick the rose, to lift it to his face and bury his nose in the scarlet core of its head, drinking that divine odor in with his hypersensitive nose. He is not worried about the thorns, for he knows that they will not prick him, nor even break his skin, for the flower recognizes his right to be here and so offers itself to his inspection. Should a soul who has no business here attempt such an act, the thorns would slice his hands to ribbons, for such is the punishment for one who thinks such a crime can be committed with impunity. He cannot say how he knows this, only that he does, and so he gently pulls the flower from the earth – it comes easily, almost willingly it seems – and holds it before him, sniffing deeply. Its fragrance is beyond my ability to describe and to try and tell you of its flavor would only do it a disservice that I cannot bear to live with. He feels as though his head is suddenly cleared, really cleared for the first time not just in weeks or moths or years but what feels like the first time in his life. He is at peace. For the first time, all the troubles and worries of that imperfect mortal world fade away, and he is utterly content to sit here and let eternity stretch out before him._

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

_He turns, without feeling any sudden twinge of panic or alarm – he recognizes the voice instantly – and beholds, standing next to him, a creature whose appearance is unparalleled by any mortal standards that attempt to define absolute perfection. Her fur is a uniform French vanilla shade, save for her ears and hands, which bear an obsidian pelt. A long, blue evening dress exposes the aquiline slope of her neck and shoulders, accentuating a stately hourglass figure as well as the ripe slope of her chest. Her wings are majestic and beautifully preened, with long streamlined feathers and an elegant frame. Yet he notices all this only peripherally, for this lady's most striking feature is neither her coat, nor her buxom figure – which would drive even the most modest of furs to sink to his knees in lust-driven awe and beg for even a single chance to bed her – it is her eyes that so enchant and captivate him. _

_He stares, seeing some profound and unnamable emotion burning in the burnished steel blue of those wild Amazon eyes. They are warrior's eyes…yet smoldering deep within them he can see a love so great that the very sight of it makes not just his heart, but his very soul ache in hopeless adoration._

"The Rose?" _he asks, turning again to regard not the single blossom held before him but the surrounding field._ "Yes, it's…" _he trails off, shaking his head. Words fail him, for nothing he can think of will do justice to the majestic serenity that seems to envelope everything around him. He turns back her, his mouth still hanging open like a fool's, and is suddenly certain she must think him a fool. _

_His meager fears prove groundless however, for she nods in simple understanding, a heart-melting smile gracing her lovely face. With the elegance of countless queens, she takes a seat before him, her body moving in a single liquid motion that only accentuates the depth of her beauty, letting the great, feathered wings at her back fall to either side. They are unnaturally close…and he suddenly finds himself drowning in her scent…and what a scent it is, like the reek of wild flowers spliced with the tangy, sickly-sweet smell of honey. _

_His mouth moves. __  
_  
"…Miss Central?"

_Her smile grows and she reaches out and clasps his hands in hers, sending a jolt of utmost pleasure racing through him._ "Hello Ashley." _No, he decides, she smells more like lilacs than wild flowers._

_He follows her example, returning her grip as best he can and smiling easily enough, though he is clearly somewhat puzzled._ "You…look familiar, somehow…." _His head cocks to one side, eyes narrowing slightly as he looks more closely at her, trying to pinpoint the source of this overpowering sense of déjà vu._ "Have we met before, you and I?"

_Her smile falters a bit and she glances away, distractly, eyes slightly downcast. Her grip tightens for a fraction of an instant._ "…Yes, we have."

"When? And how?"

_Her only answer is a shake of the head and another gentle squeeze. _

_He nods in understanding, though her refusal still saddens him for some reason he cannot place. Doing his best to shake off this impending sense of gloom, he instead turns his gaze to the blood-red field. She is lovely beyond words, yes, but her beauty is as nothing compared to the radiance spilling from this ocean of divine flowers. He thinks if this were Heaven, it would be more than enough to satisfy him for all eternity. _

"Am I in Heaven?"

_She favors him with a loving, yet slightly sad smile that says she understands his need to ask even though he intuitively knows the answer He chuckles dryly._ "No, of course, not…no Pearly Gates."

_Those warrior's eyes soften and she relinquishes her grip on his mutilated hands in favor of gently cupping his furry face instead, wiping away the remnants of his tears._ "In good time, Ashley; God has seen how faithful you've been and is well pleased…but there is still one more soul in need of your guidance."

_He looks at her, his red-rimmed eyes shining with anticipation from the wreck of his now scarred and bloodied face._ "I am to be His witness one last time?"

"He has caused you much suffering, yet his torment is greater than your own and though he bears no visible scars, he is in great pain and has suffered much more than many of his creed who came before him. He may try to hide his shame and fear beneath a mask of indifference, and he may look to be more cruel than any you have ever known, but the darkness has yet to fully capture his heart."

_He nods._ "I understand. I'll do my best." _He pauses, considering._ "How – "

"You'll know him when you see him."

_He nods in simple acceptance. He has complete trust in her…and why should he not? Who alone has come to his aid in this, his greatest hour of need, bearing His message of hope and the promise of His strength and eternal life? Who has been given the power to drive back the hells spawn fiend that has been blackening his mind with terrifying nightmares…ones too horrible to describe? She is gentleness itself and an almost palpable aura of deepest love radiates from her fur. She is so beautiful, fairer than he could've ever imagined. Even if he were still capable of conjuring up his most vivid (and decidedly impure) teenage fantasies, they still would fall under the shadow of her loveliness. She is here, now, with him, in this sweet-smelling field of divine roses and she has wiped away his tears without hesitation, having no eyes for the grime of blood and dirt that coats his fur. If she says he will know, then who is he to doubt her? __  
_  
"Thank you…for…for saving me." _He has begun to weep, great fat tears rolling down his cheeks to soak into his fur, but he doesn't mind shedding them, not here, not in front of her. _

_She shakes her head; her sad smile returning as she once again goes about the business of mopping up his tears with her healer's hands._ "No, Ash; your faith, you love for Him and His for you, that's what saved you and will continue to save you, no matter what temptations Lucifer may try to cloud your mind with. You've done more for yourself by sacrificing so much in His name than I ever could have, even if I'd been blessed with power multiplied a hundred-fold."

_He shakes his head._ "I'm…I'm not talking about persecution or pain; I'm talking about…**_him_**." _He says, and gives an involuntary shudder, feeling as though his spine has just turned to ice._ "He…he's evil…so evil." _He looks at her, his face now horribly open like that of a frightened child who thinks he's seen the twisted countenance of the Boogeyman by starlight. His throat begins constricting horribly and he finds it hard to speak._  
"When I try to sleep…fills my head…death…torture…women…." _He swallows._ "…_Children_…infants who…can't…can't even walk yet." _His tears flow faster and his voice begins to jig up and down on the register, as a voice will when one's vocal cords are so heavily damaged._ "There's rape…and m-murder…s-so much killing…and I…I…." _He chokes, face twisting in agony._

"_I cause it!_" _His throat hitches and he can no longer speak; he is crying too hard._

_His exhausted body crumples in a heap of grief and she takes him in her arms, drawing him close, letting him nuzzle his in his hot, wet, bloody face against her bosom as she folds her wings around him, enveloping him in a cloud of her radiant perfume as he sobs and trembles, shaking like an autumn leaf about to fall. She coos gently to him, telling him all is well, murmuring sweet words of relief in a language that is at times English and then lapses into some archaic tongue that sends a deep calm spreading through his body. After a while his tears begin to slow and he simply lies there, his face buried in the soft down of her coat while she rocks him gently back and forth in her arms, stroking a hand through his mangy, blood-caked fur. _

_He's standing, poised on the edge of a great and bottomless pit in his mind from which there is no return; madness. Though he has been gifted with unusual skills and an unprecedented strength of body and spirit, a single push is all it will take to send him tumbling down forever. Where the Demon to come to him now and invade his mind again in such a manner as before…it would likely eat him like candy from the inside out, shattering his sanity like fine china. The constant and very real physical and spiritual battles raging on inside his head have taken their toll on him over the years and he has born them without one complaint…but the effects beginning to manifest themselves, for even though his faith is strong, he is still only an imperfect mortal, forever doomed to fall short of Grace. It is only by His grace that his mind has not collapsed under this constant onslaught. Yet, he cannot take credit, for Central has been invaluable on his passage down the Holy Road. He needs her, this lady – this angel, this heavenly guardian – for she gives him that which he has been without for so long…. _

_Hope. _

_Finally, he can speak_

"…Why…?" _he asks, his face still buried protectively against her chest._ "…Why must I…see these…these…these _things_?" _He sounds revolted._ "Did…did I…?" _He can't bring himself to finish; the implications are too evil, too black to imagine. __  
_  
"That is not for me to say…but despair not; all will be made clear when you stand before His throne."

"…You promise…?"

_She tucks her head down, gently pressing her chin against the top of his head, cradling him as a mother does her babe._ "I do."

_For a while, there is nothing. Then,_ "…I'm tired, Central," _he rasps, his throat raw from his earlier attempt to exorcise the demon and lack of water,_ "…I'm so very tired…."

"I know, Ashley," _she says and he can smell the salty aroma of her tears as they slide slowly down her cheeks,_ "but you can sleep now. Rest easy, brave Messenger."

_His eyes widen in horror at the thought, every muscle in his body winding up like piano wires, his innards clenching in what has become an inbred reflex to such a suggestion, for sleep has long since ceased to offer him the peace enjoyed by other, less fortunate souls._

"No…no sleep…can't…nightmares…" _he tries to explain, but his stupid throat is making things too difficult. His arms move by themselves, instinctively wrapping around her, hands clutching desperately, his grip made iron in his fear._

"Shh, shh," _she coos, stroking a hand through his fur, pulling him into her lap, drowning him in her heavenly musk,_ "relax…everything will be all right…."

_He gives a weak shake of the head, his grip tightening slightly._ "…No…I…I can't….can't fight…he's…too strong…."

"You are entering your darkest hour, Ashley, and the demon is a powerful adversary…but you will win, Ash, you _will_, but to do so you must sleep…."

"…I don't…want you…to go." _He lies there shaking, only now he's looking up at her with red, bloodshot eyes beneath which bags lie like violet ink stains and eraser smudges. Should she choose to, she could shatter his mind like crystalline with a single thought._ "Stay with me…_please_…" _he begs, tears beginning to stream down his face once more in his desperation._ "Don't leave me."

_She hugs him to her more fiercely than ever._ "I would never forsake you, Ashley, _never_. I would rather die a thousand deaths than leave you to battle Kane by yourself."

_He swallows and there is a dry click in his throat as he once more seeks refuge in her embrace, burying his face against her. His next words are muffled and they spill from his mouth in a voice weak with emotion._

"Central…oh, _Central_…I…I _love_ you." _He knows not whether he refers to either spiritual or physical love; only that it is true beyond all doubt; he loves her with all his heart, in the only one fur can ever love another. She's been with him for so long, through bad faith and countless doubts, and through it all she never left him. She's been there for him countless times, giving him strength and an encouraging word when he'd been forsaken by all others, even his own parents. How can he _not_ love her?_

_His thoughts are interrupted as she abruptly lowers her head, at the same time sliding the hand not pressing against the back of his head below his chin, lifting his face up to hers. Though it lasts only for a few precious seconds, it is something he will remember for all eternity. Before his frazzled brain has time to react, he feels her lips press against his as she kisses him full on the mouth. His exhausted, terrified-child's eyes first widen in shock, and then slowly slip closed as he relishes the experience. _

_She is warm and soft against his cracked, dry lips and the air she expels into his lungs make his head swim. Her taste is hot and wet, rich like the nectar of some exotic flower. He melts into her arms, his hands slowly relinquishing their death grip on her, as the comforting heat of her breath seems to flow down his throat and spread throughout his body, slowly turning his adrenaline-hardened muscles to jelly and filling his mind with soft white light. Finally, she breaks the kiss, looking down at him with eyes from which shines a love so great it dwarfs his own._

"The Lord will give you strength when you least expect it…and so will I." _His heart cries out in protest as he sees a tear or two leak from her eyes, and he somehow finds the strength to lift a trembling left hand and wipe them away as she did for him._

"No…please...don't cry…not for me…" _Fresh blood begins to trickle from the corners of his mouth as he tries to smile. Powerful she may be, but even her divine gift cannot completely reverse the damage done by his tormentors. _

"God has blessed me…beyond measure…and there are others…who are…far more deserving…of your compassion…than the likes…of this wretch…." _His voice – which has been somewhat restored to its normal slightly rolling tone that carries with it the barest touch of some unidentifiable accent – wavers not from fear or pain now, but from a rapidly descending curtain of exhaustion. _

_She smiles and repositions their bodies to allow him to nestle more comfortably against her, his head lying against her chest, her arms and wings forming a protective blanket around him once more._ "I cry for all those I see suffering in His name and He cries as well." _She gently clasps the trembling hand at her cheek and, bringing it to her mouth, brushes her lips against the two bloody stumps that testify to his talented artistic fingers that once served there. _

"Fair enough…for I know…you weep…more for joy…than for sorrow."

_A beat._

"Will you…make me…a p…?" _He is interrupted as a violent bout of coughing sprays a fine mist of blood from between his lips, sprinkling the silken feathers of her left wing slightly._ "A…promise?" _His eyes begin to close, but he struggles to keep sleep at bay for now. Not because he fears what dreams or visions may come – for he now knows that no evil can touch him, not in this place, not while he lies in the watchful arms of his angel – but because he has this one last bit of business to attend to. _

_The other hand runs along his dirtied cheek with a touch like velvet, sending a wave of pleasure rippling through him._ "What would you have me do, Ashley?" _Voice so soft he can barely hear it, but ah_ God _it's sweet. __  
_  
"I…could you…take me…when…?" _Exhaustion overcomes him and he trials off, his eyes slipping closed. He sleeps…but not before receiving her last gift to him._

"Yes." _Her lips brush against his brow and he hears her murmured reply in his ear as he finally lets the darkness take him deep into its recesses where dreams of death and destruction trouble him no more._

**Author's Note**:  
Hmm, well, there you have it. I'm still a bit worried that the dialogue is too choppy and Central still doesn't seem right to me for some reason...but oh well; I've done the best I can do for now.


	3. III

**III**

He awakened some unknown amount of time later to the clang of a deadbolt being drawn back and instantly pinpointed the source of the noise; the heavy iron door that barred the end of the cellblock. The sound was immediately followed by the muffled thumping of approaching paws accompanied by a harsh miasma of blood, sweat and filth. Soldiers, in other words…or at least that's what they liked to think they were, rather than just some religious fanatics who were so engrossed in their own twisted form of the occult that they were blind to the fact that it was falling down around their ears. Their coming could mean one of two things; they'd had enough of drilling him and had decided to finally send him off to Judgment, or they were merely coming to smash a few more bones and spill a little more blood before taking him down to the Chamber for another round.

In truth, he actually welcomed the likelihood of it being the latter rather than the former. It would only give him yet another chance to prove his Faith. He turned his face up to the light spilling in through his open cell door and felt something close to amazement. He couldn't be seeing this…could he? He squinted and sniffed, trying to rely on his malfunctioning, blood-clogged nose for reassurance and yes, he discovered, it was true after all.

They'd brought food…and not just that, but water as well.

His stomach grumbled urgently beneath him and saliva flooded his mouth and spilled down his chin as he unconsciously swiped his ragged tongue over a bloody upper lip. He paid no heed to his hunger for now however, as all his attention was fixed on the fur bearing the silver tray. He was a badger, of all things, with sleek iron-gray fur, dyed a deep amethyst purple along the right side of his face. He stood in the doorway, flanked by two others, his posture erect, his spotless beige uniform newly pressed, wearing a red armband that bore an insignia that looked something like two crossed lightening bolts. He stood there, surveying Ash with eyes like granite, assessing the damage, lingering momentarily on the lupine's shattered arm and noting the absence of several fingers and toes. Finally, he turned and spoke briskly to the other two in some throaty foreign tongue that the starving prisoner could not identify. The badger obviously held a higher rank than the two of them, for they snapped a sharp salute that he returned and then marched off, leaving him alone with Ash. The officer watched them go, then stepped inside and bent, placing the platter and pitcher before him.

Ash starred at them for a moment, already somewhat suspicious, trying to comprehend the meaning of it all. Why the sudden change in tactics? They'd never given him food before, or water either for that matter. Were they hoping to illicit a confession out of him? He puzzled over this, decided that such questions could wait, and returned his attention to the officer, who had procured a small folding chair from somewhere out in the hall and now sat before him, hunched forward, hands clasped loosely between his knees, watching Ash's every move with his iron eyes. His face remained stony, betraying not a hint of his true intent.

For several minutes, neither moved, or even said a word. They merely stared at each other, the prisoner with his ravaged body and exhausted face, the soldier in his crisp uniform, still as a statue. Then, amazingly, the badger broke the silence.

"…Aren't you going to eat something?" His voice was thick with an accent that was somewhere between French and Italian and although it was rich and inviting, those lamb slaughterer's eyes never softened.

Ash shook his head.

"Why not?"

He was forced to swallow several times before he was able to cajole his tongue into forming distinguishable words. "…Poison."

The badger nodded dolefully, as though this did not surprise him. "Smart fur." He allowed, "but I assure you both the food and water are clean."

"…Why…?" It was getting harder to talk. If he wanted to continue this conversation for very much longer, he'd have to take the badger at his word and drink something, if only to allow his mouth to function properly and douse the dry fire burning in his damaged throat.

The other shrugged, interpreting Ash's query without need of further explanation. "You're a stubborn bastard, I'll give you that much." He smiled. There was no trace of warmth in it. After producing a pack of American Spirit cigarettes and firing one up with a gold lighter, he went on. "For weeks we have cut you, shot you, burned you, maimed you, even cut off your balls, anything we could think of…and still, you refuse to recant." He exhaled a cloud of pale gray smoke. "Even now as you stand on death's very doorstep, you remain unchanged."

"You…didn't answer…my question…." He needed the water – more, he wanted it – but for now, he held his ground. He was in need of nutrition yes, but right now answers interested him more than food or drink.

The badger grunted and tapped ash onto the dirty floor. "All right…to the point then." He paused, dragging on his cigarette, expelling the acrid smoke from his nose in a sigh. "I simply want to keep you alive long enough to satisfy my curiosity before I send you to hang." His lips spread in a hard, grim smile. "Now, what do you think about that?"

Ash did his best to imitate a shrug of indifference. "It…makes no…no difference…one way or…the other." A raging forest fire burned in his throat. If he didn't drink soon, it wouldn't matter how much he wanted to continue to preach, for his voice would fail him, perhaps forever this time. He tried swallowing, but his mouth was a dry dessert void of any lubricating fluids. "In the end…I'll go…to His Kingdom…."

The other snorted. "All right then…It seems your mind's made up? You refuse to recant?"

"You should…know…better than…to ask me, Sir." He smiled. "I could never…never renounce Him."

The badger nodded as if he'd expected nothing less. "I see…may I ask why?"

Ash's eyebrows went up. "You…really wish…to know?"

"Yes."

"Ah…" he smiled. "First…answer me this…do you…believe in God, Sir?" a shake of the head. "Can I…ask why not?"

"What sort of God would allow those whom he supposedly holds closest to him to die as you are now?"

"A great and…loving one."

"You truly believe this?"

"With…all my heart…Sir."

He officer snorted. "Then you are a fool."

"If you only…only knew Him, Sir…you wouldn't…think so."

The badger's hand flashed out, fast as lightening, the fingers seizing Ash by the hair and yanking him cruelly forward. Blood once more spurted from Ash's broken nose as his face was raked and smashed against the unevenly milled concrete floor, causing him to give a low cry of pain as new wounds joined in the chorus of the old, half-healed ones in an internal choir of suffering. His head flared in pain as the Officer adjusted his grip to better grind his face against the bloody floor one final time before roughly jerking him backwards, bending his neck at a cruel angle.

"I'm sorry…I though I heard you say something about me getting to know God?" The question came in a low growl of utter hatred and loathing, spit flying from between the badgers lips as he pressed his muzzle in the cup of Ash's ear.

Ash tried to smile, but all he could manage was a weak twitch of the lips. He spat a mouthful of crimson fluid into the rapidly spreading puddle on the floor in front of him before finally getting the twisted rag of his tongue to work properly, his voice seeming almost to bubble forth as he attempted to clear the blood running down the back of his throat and keep from choking on it at the same time.

"…That…I did…."

A blow to the face sent him sprawling back against the wall, the back of his head exploding in a pain as it connected. Half-blinded by the searing pain that now filled his head, he looked up just in time to see the other advancing on him, cracking his knuckles viscously. He had no time to prepare for the assault, for the badger was on him once more, grabbing him by the collared front of his ruined shirt and shaking him like a terrier with a rat in its jaws, raining blows down on him with a fist like iron.

Finally, the Officer straightened, pulling his uniform back into place. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he began to methodically wipe the blood from his furry knuckles, rising the them in the pitcher of water. He hawked and spat into the now tainted fluid before tossing the vile mess into Ash's bloody face.

"Will you repent?" The voice had lost its sympathetic edge and was now as hard and soulless as steel.

"…. No…."

"Then I have but one choice." The badger stood, towering over Ash's slumped and beaten form, his eyes glinting. "I hope you understand my reasons…."

Ash's head bobbed imperceptibly, his mouth twitching in a futile attempt to smile through his agony. "Aye…do…your duty…Sir."

He closed his eyes, giving silent thanks to God for once again blessing him so greatly as to give him the chance to continually prove his Faith over and over again when so many were falling away, his lips moving in silent prayer even as he heard the officer call the guards over once more, not bothering to change languages this time. No, he wanted the bleeding wolf to hear his orders and know what was coming. Ash would've grinned in spite of himself if he'd had any control over his face. What fools they were, to still think pain could in any way change his mind even after all this time…

Having finished his silent praise to his Lord, the bleeding, starving lupine who had once been arrested for assaulting a skunk who had been trying to rape a young bear cub squinted his eyes against the light flooding in from the now open door to better see what torture they had in store for him this time….

The two furs left him, their hands and faces stained red as a testemate to their bloody work of the last three hours. Ash watched them go, barely conscious, his left eye swollen almost shut, but glad. Not, not just glad; content. Contentment had come at a high price however, but he wasn't complaining. They had done their worst yet…had carried half his tail off with them, taken one of his ears, four more of his toes…five of his teeth…but they had not broken his spirit. Not so much as made a dent in his Faith. He didn't hold them any ill will – they had just been following orders…and after all, his body was merely a prison from which God would soon deliver him….

_And I'll get to see her…._ He thought, his heart swelling at the thought. _I'll get to see Central again…. Beautiful Central…._ He sighed slowly, wishing he had the strength to move his broken jaw and swollen tongue even a little…for he wouldn't have needed much to sing.

**_Aww…poor little Ashley-kins, Are we all tapped out already, ass-bitch?_**

Crap.

His face twisted in an involuntary snarl of distaste. The Demon was back…and it couldn't have picked a worse time to make its appearance. Then again, that was probably the idea, he reasoned. It had probably hung around in the corner, whispering to the Officer, watching with primal glee as the guards went to work on him…whispering softly into their ears as well. He had no way to be sure if it had done so or not, but he wouldn't have put it past the thing. It was evil after all, pure evil. He shook his head weakly. No, no, can't dwell on that now…. He had to focus all his will on keeping it at bay. He tried for confidence, it was his only chance…he hadn't the strength to fight him off again so soon.

_Back for more, are we Kane?_

**_Oh so she told you my name, did she? Figures...but you know I could never, ever leave you, my little blood-spattered angel, not after all the blood and shit and piss we've been through together._** A dry laugh like the grating of a rusty door hinge rang out. **_What sort of friend would I be if I just up and left you without even saying goodbye, and right when you need me the most?_**

_Get out, right now._

**_Make me…_** A dry chuckle, **_oh wait, that's right; you can't._**

If his teeth ground any harder, they'd crumble to powder before long. He swallowed, a grime of sweat beginning to run down his face with the effort of maintaining control. Can't let it get me, not here, not now, not ever again!

_Get out…or I'll –_

**_You'll what?_** It interrupted, taking on the mocking tones of an elementary playground bully. **_Just what kind of gun have you got left to hold to my head and force me out the door with? You can't fool me, buddy-boy; you used your last shell back there…and in this game, there ain't no reloads and your only clip is empty._ ****  
**  
_Are you sure about that, Friend?_ There was a moment of silence from the other side. He grabbed it with both hands – it might be the only opening he'd ever get. _You can try to scare me all you like, but I know the truth – you're blind as a bat. You've got no idea how much I've really left in me…and you know in your heart of hearts that your powers are no match for His. So…still like to try your luck? __  
_  
He knew he was all but dancing in Death's cold embrace, but it was the only card he had left in his hand; a blatant lie. Despite how clever the unnamed demon in his head might think itself to be, he knew better. Even Satan in all his dark prowess had his limits, and his minions were no exception. The thing might want him to believe it could read his innermost thoughts, sense his dwindling reservoirs of stamina, but he knew better. Yet this time, whether it knew it or not, the thing was right; he really had almost nothing left now. All he could do was pray for the power to cast it out once again, or at least push it far enough away to regain control…and beg Him and all His angels that it wouldn't call his bluff before his prayers were answered.

Finally, it spoke. **_Don't get comfortable, My Pet; I'll be back later…to finish the job. You'll crack eventually. How many do you think I've taken? Eons worth, Ash-shit; I've had dozens, hundreds, thousands…and they all turned in the end. They were all too weak to keep going…and you're no different…you'll be mine yet, just wait and see…._ ****  
**  
Then it was gone, receding from his mind like a black tide…and he was left with only the sounds of his own heart thumping away in his chest for company. That had been close…too close. He needed help…needed Central…but did he dare call her, an Angel, a Servant of the Almighty, to come to him? For some moments he lingered on the verge of unconsciousness while he pondered this…but eventually gave in and prepared to summon all his energy to call her. Who was he kidding…without His help, he would succumb to Kane sooner or later – his body would just refuse to take the abuse and there was no telling what Kane could do to him if he somehow got a hold of him in this weakened state.

_He might be playing with a loaded deck_, he thought grimly as he mustered his last vestiges of strength, dropping all his defenses, trying to call out to her, _but I've got a trump card…._

He reached and reached; praying with all his might…but there was nothing. He tried again, pushing harder this time…and still, nothing. Not so much as a glimmer of light. He panted, his head pounding from the strain. He still had enough left for one more push…but was it worth it? She hadn't answered the first two…so what guarantee was there that she would answer the third? He frowned, glaring down at his twisted hands, debating. If he should call her again, his strength really would be all gone, every last ounce of it…and even though he couldn't read his thoughts, instinct would alert Kane to his opening…he would be leaving himself wide open for the fiend. If he didn't call her, Kane would come again anyway, sooner or later…and in his present state, Ash knew Kane would tear through what little power he had left to shield himself with as easily as if it were tissue paper…and he needed to be ready when that happened…. But…

A sudden darkness flooded his mind, a swirling, and festering cloak of night blackening all it touched. His eyes widened, the dull, coppery taste of fear flooding his mouth as he realized what had happened. It was –

**_Should've been more careful, Ashley._** Kane sneered, his voice thundering inside his head as if from a surround sound system. The pressure in his head began to climb skyward once more, only in sharp jabs and jolts this time, making him crumple into a ball, his eyes watering, blood pouring from his mouth, nose, ears…eyes.

**_I'm back for good…and this time, I'm taking you with me, my peach._** His eyes widened in horror as what felt like a mental scalpel embedded itself in his throat, cutting off his air.

**_No bitch to save you this time…you're mine now._**

No…no… he tried to scream but his throat refused to work. With his last ounce of strength, he threw caution to the winds and prayed with all his might, trying desperately to block out the insanely thundering voice that was slowly but surely stealing away his lifeforce.

_God…please….Please…help me…. _

Blood darkened his shirt as blood rushed to his broken head and he began to choke and gasp, his empty stomach doubling in on itself, his guts writhing inside him. His vision faded, the darkness swarming over his eyes, seeming eager to gobble up whatever sweet vision he might have left.

**_Sorry, the Bitch can't come to the phone right now…time to come with uncle Kane._**

A red-hot railroad spike was driven into his stomach, followed by another and another…and another. Tears streamed down his face and he let out a breathless scream of utter agony as the monster sank its talons deep into him, ripping at his already battered body from the inside out.

**_Yes, yes, yes! That's it!_** It roared in black, sadistic triumph. **_Suffer! Suffer and die, oh Willing Servant…It's what you get for all the shit you put me through all those years ago…what goes around comes around…and lady Payback's a true bitch!_** The darkness…it was so powerful…too powerful. He couldn't fight it, not matter how much he wanted to. He began to sob uncontrollably, not only from pain, but from despair as well. The thing was going to ravage him…it was going to win…and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

**_That's right, you can't stop it! You'll NEVER stop me! You know why? It's because I know what you did before you died, before you made the mistake of leaving me to rot in Hell all by myself, you shit! You and Jack - you killed them all, you sniveling little Christian FUCK! You killed every last one of them and that waste of a Sin doesn't even remember you! I still don't know what God was thinking, giving a cock-sucking little baby killer like you a second chance! You don't even deserve to suck my - _**

A sudden bright light exploded into life inside his head, driving the black specter away from him with the force of a flash flood. He heard a cry of outraged disappointment, followed by a roar of pain as she began to drive the thing from his head, trying to banish Kane to the dark realm from whence he'd come. He gasped, breathing heavily, his back arching, body twisting freakishly, his heart pounding as his skull reverberated with the force from her entry…God, but she was _strong_!

_You MONSTER!_

**_No you don't, BITCH! Back off! He's MINE!_**

_Like **HELL** he is!_

A primal snarl of rage followed by a roar of pain as she lashed out at the beast, driving him away. Kane roared and tried to flee from her advance, but he was no match for her speed; she was on him like a harpy, ripping into him with all the savage fury of a mother Grizzly protecting her young cub.

And all of a sudden, he was gone. The darkness had been driven back…. A sudden calm descended over him…it was over. She had won…Kane was gone… He collapsed back onto the dirty floor, his body broken and shaking, his right shoulder dislocated, all his muscles burning like the fires of Hell itself. His ragged breathing slowed. A sudden peace descended over him…and he feel into unconsciousness, already feeling her hurrying to catch him before he fell. He knew even as she ran to him, he was close to death.

_Ash! Oh Ashley…hold on, please…hold on…._

His eyes slipped closed…and he drifted off to that wonderful world again…ran to fling himself into her open, waiting embrace...

_For you…_he thought, as he faded from consciousness, _I'll hold on...for you…my Angel._


	4. IV

**IV**

_He plummets, not into a world of light this time…but into one of darkness, darkness so thick he can't even see his nose in front of his face. He crashes down, landing on his back, crying out as his body is subjected to further abuse by the jagged and unevenly milled earth. With some effort, he sits up, peering around, looking for some indication as to where he is. It doesn't take but a second to realize this place, wherever he is, is most certainly not Purgatory…for while his eyes might not be working too well in this chancy half-light, his nose is another matter. Broken and blood-clogged though it may be, he still registers the stink of sulfur and some other malign odor so alien he cannot put a name to it. His eyes water and he sneezes, blood and mucus spattering the ground before him, yet still the smell lingers, polluting his mind with its foul stench. _

"…C…C-Central…?" _He calls hopefully, his voice sounding small and scratchy in the empty vastness of this nightmare realm and he's helpless to repress a shudder as the sound echoes around him hollowly for a moment or two before fading away. _

_A dry breath like a death rattle from directly behind him._ "No one by that name here…"

_An iron curtain of mingled shock and terror falls over him, turning his limbs to lead and his heart to stone. He tries feebly to turn his head, bloodshot eyes widening in disbelief. The voice…yes, he knows that voice, knows it well…but how? And why? He'd been freed, this…this thing had been driven away…so how–?_

"Seems she's abandoned you after all…." _A chuckle._ "How…predictable."

_A bony hand closes over the scruff of his neck, the ragged talons protruding from each of the five fingers punching through his tender flesh like a dull blade, drawing more blood to stain his already matted hide. He is lifted effortlessly; his broken body dangling limply, as a lifeless as a rag doll's._ "So much for Faith, eh?"

_The hand pivots, turning him inexorably around – slowly, so slowly – and already the smell of Hell – for that's where he is, no fool is he – is being overtaken by another, more primal one. He tries to close his eyes, willing himself not to see the demon that's hounded him relentlessly all through the years, not wanting to behold the source of that hellish, raspy voice. There isn't time however and before the command is even finished forming in his mind, he is face to face with the demon…his demon…._

_A dull crimson light burns from the eyes in Kane's ancient, leathery face and in their core Ash sees flat murder spliced with the blackest hatred. In their dull glow, he can make out a shaggy mane of hair sprouting from the monster's head, though the color is all but lost to the darkness. The twisted jack-o-lantern mouth stretches into a grin of perverse delight, exposing half-rotted teeth – a cannibal's smile. He is drawn so close to Kane that their noses nearly touch. The slack, liver-colored lips move, spraying spittle into his face. _"Welcome back, Ashley…I've missed you."

_His stomach gives another involuntary heave as a nightmare tide of death and desecration assaults him as Kane's foul breath washes over him, clear snot immediately beginning to run from his nose, his eyes streaming. He coughs violently, gasping for breath, his eyes and throat burning, twisting his head involuntarily away._ "…D…Don't…" _he coughs again._ "Don't…c-call me that…."

_The other snorts, his grip tightening, grin shrinking to a disgusted smirk._ "Oh that's right…I forgot…you only like it when _she_ calls you that."

_He looks at Kane, his eyes blazing with blue fire, his brow furrowed. _"…H…How…? Sh-she…she turned…turned you out…." _His voice has once again been reduced to little more than a dry rasp – it's really a wonder he can speak at all, given the extensive damage done to his vocal cords._

_The Demon laughs, unleashing another of those rancid tidal waves._ "You know what your problem is, my devout little buddy? You've got too much faith." _The hand tightens its grip, drawing more blood._ "Makes it harder for me to get into that thick skull of yours…and then of course, there's that guardian angel bitch of yours to contend with as well…but the sad truth of it is…she's just been stringing you along this whole time."

_The smell…dear _God_…this close, it all but smoothers him; colors flash behind his eyes and it's all he can do to keep from passing out…yet he somehow finds the strength to speak, his lips barely moving, the words coming out in a barely audible whisper._

_Kane jerks him closer, his eyes narrowing dangerously._ "I'm sorry, Hell's a noisy place sometimes and I'm a bit hard of hearing…did you say something, _Preacher Boy_?"

"…C…Cen…Central…." _He swallows painfully, a corner of his mouth quirking as Kane blinks in surprise._ "…H-her…n…name's….C…Central…a-and s-she'd…she'd n-never…never l-leave m-m-me…."

_Pain, sharp and hot, explodes in his head as the talons of Kane's free hand sink into his stomach and squeeze. He cries out breathlessly, instinctively trying to jerk away, but the fiend will have none of it and only tightens his grip for an instant before releasing him entirely. He falls to earth, his agonized body giving another shriek of pain as he lands on what feels like a nightmare concoction of broken glass and rusted metal. Those eyes move lower, narrowing dangerously as the monster stoops and jerks him into a sitting position, his hand now biting into the tender flesh of Ash's throat. _

"I don't give a blue fuck what her name is," _he snarls contemptuously, his eyes turning the color of a nuclear sunset in his depthless rage._ "She can't help you down here, my friend…" _a hand scarred by fire pats at his cheek, making his skin crawl,_ "…but…maybe I can…if you'd be willing to–"

"…N…no…no th…thanks." _He tries to shake his head, but doesn't even have the strength for that._

_Kane chuckles, his eyes flashing a neon-red for a brief instant as his temper flares up again._ "Tread carefully, Ash-slut…it's not polite to turn away someone who's offering you a helping hand without even hearing them out first…." _The hand in question tightens its grip on his throat ever so slightly._ "Take a moment to consider this; remember you're in my house now, you little shit…and the rules of that 'Heaven' you keep babbling on about don't apply down here…and you should know better than anyone that I don't take kindly to refusal…."

"M…my answer…st-still stands…."

_The monster sighs resignedly, rolling his eyes._ "Come on…do you really think that God STILL cares for you?"

"…You…know the answer…to that…Kane."

_A derisive snort cuts through the gloom._ "Look around…look where you are…if He really loves you so much…why the fuck are you here…instead of up there, fucking your little angel's brains out?"

_His lip curls in disgust._ "I…I'd never...v-violate her…like that!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I offend your virgin ears?" _Another soft chuckle rings out, accompanied by another waft of putrid breath to sting his eyes._ "You certainly never had a problem with taking what you pleased on your first trip…."

_A shadow passes over his heart and for an instant he considers the possibility of truth in this statement…then shoves it roughly away._ "…Liar." He growls, but a seed of doubt touches his heart all the same. "I…I could never do that!"

_Kane laughs, harder this time._ "Oh boy, if I had soul for every time I heard THAT one!" _A grin splits his ugly face._ "But, you do have something on the ball…lust was never one of your stronger vices…no, you were geared more towards…wrath."

_A hand of ice grips his heart and he feels a sudden chill in the air._ "…Wh…What're you t…talking about…?"

_Kane's grip tightens and he leans in close, his grin shrinking to a satisfied smirk._ "Haven't you ever wondered why I'm the one who has the master key to your mind? Why I've had such a fucking hard on for you all these years?" _His eyes narrow to slits once more._ "I can see that bitch has still left you in the dark about all this, so allow me to shed some light on our little situation…. You killed me."

"…Wh…what?"

"Surprised?" _The Sin chuckles…and then releases his hold on him before driving a fist straight into the other's unprotected face, sending him flying through the air to land face down on the blasted ground._ "Not nearly as much as I was, you cock-sucking piece of shit, I guarantee you." _He is seized by the hair and jerked backwards to lie once again on his back, starring up at Kane through eyes that burn and smolder like magma._

_He swallows, throat working, forcing himself to speak, each word clearly costing him a dreadful effort._ "I…don't…believe you…LIAR." _A pause as he labors for air, his face turning an ashy gray._ "I…I never…."

_Kane merely laughs into his face._ "Ha! Defiant to the bitter end, eh _Preacher Boy_?" _He smirks._ "Well then, I suppose there's nothing left for me to do…but give you some PROOF!"

_Before he can so much as utter a sound, the monster's hands descend, planting themselves over his eyes like hellish starfish, blocking out what little sight he has and driving his head deeper into the ripping, biting mess beneath them. He struggles, horrified, his own scarred hands flying up to grab at the Sin's wrists. A blinding flash of violet light explodes behind his eyes and another cry rips itself from his tortured throat as he feels himself being drawn into that unholy flare, drawn like ship to a whirlpool. His struggles intensify, body convulsing, his own razor-sharp claws flashing out to burry themselves in the hideous hands plastered over face. He snarls in effort, trying desperately to will away that darkly alluring cloud, even as he continues to sink into its unknowable depths. Vertigo overtakes him and he dry heaves, nearly choking as he tries involuntarily to twist his head to either side only to be held fast by his captor. _

_Then, quite suddenly…he starts to see things in that purple haze…. The vision is fuzzy at first, like an image on a TV screen whose signal is distorted by rain or snow. The fog, the mist, whatever it is swirls slowly and starts to change, starts to separate and mold itself into more distinctive forms. Slowly, the scene starts to take shape. The first figure to manifest itself is that of a human, and an old one at that. He wears a white lab coat, and as Ash watches, the man pushes the even whiter cloud of hair back from his high brow as he makes scribbling motions across an unseen surface. Now, other things start to come into focus. First, a pencil in the man's furiously working hand, then the desk at which he sits. Next, the clutter of papers and reams upon reams of calculations written in a clear, back-slanting hand. Finally, the room itself comes into view, everything white-washed and polished, made from either steel or some rigorously sterilized white material that looks like porcelain but isn't. The man sighs, a dry whisper of satisfaction as he lays down his pencil and looks at his work for a few seconds, then nods, a contented smile spreading over his world-weary face. He turns in his chair, getting to his feet and moving over to look at what Ash at first takes to be a moderately large glass box stowed against the far wall, away from the beeping and humming machinery that pervades the rest of the large room. The view abruptly changes, following the man as he stops before it, laying one arthritis-stricken hand gently over its top, as though fearing that even the slightest bump might disturb what lies inside and as Ash watches him, it suddenly becomes clear. No, he realizes, it's not just a box. _

_It's a coffin._

_His suspicions are confirmed when an instant later, the whole thing comes into view…and nestled inside, its head resting on a navy blue pillow, is the perfectly preserved body of a wolf…a white wolf, to be exact. He stares, feeling as though the bottom has dropped out of his stomach, trying feverishly to wrap his mind around what his eyes are telling him. He can see every finite detail, every wrinkle and every shadow, right down to the tear that slips from the man's eye to fall on the transparent vacuum-sealed chamber below. The old scientist blinks and wipes it away._

_The man begins to talk to the deceased lupine, his voice quavering not with age, but rather with a boundless sort of joy…and with a jolt, Ash realizes that he's heard this voice before…and to hear it again makes his heart practically burst with longing. He feels an indescribably strong urge to throw his arms about the man standing on the other side, to hug him close and to be hugged in return and…and to call him…Father. _

_This last thought puzzles him, but he has little time to examine it as the Demon's hands flex above him, talons digging into his fur and suddenly the scene changes, swirling, taking on a new shape. He cries out, sweat pouring from his body as a dull ache begins to spread through his head as the image before him materializes. A different room now, more people, men in white, clustered around instruments and control panels, monitoring the vital signs of a host of subjects suspended in what looks to be almost a full dozen life-size test tubes. There's a dog…a mouse…a rat…something that looks like a bear…a rabbit…and…_

_Kane chuckles from above as him as he looks fixedly at a chamber near the end of the row, air entering his lungs in a whoosh as he gasps at the sight…for the tiny white-furred pup he sees floating in that particular chamber, it's body connected by tubes to at least half a dozen different machines…is him. His steadily building headache intensifies with a sudden pulse and he cries out weakly, trying once again to free himself from the monster's clutches, but to no avail._

_The hands tighten again and that violet fog swirls, first darkening, then molding itself into a new scene, only faster than before. He sees himself, a rapidly developing young wolf, kneeling over the body of the white haired man, tears coursing down his face, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably as he gazes at the slowly spreading patch of crimson staining his creator's shirt, the bullet wound in the chest all too visible in the glaring white of the room. _

_The vision changes once again, moving faster still. A forest green rabbit comes into view, he standing before him. They exchange names and the rabbit – Jack – asks why he's here. He promptly pulls a zippo from his coat pocket and lights up, spewing smoke like a dragon of old from mouth and nose as he replies that he's here to offer his 'assistance'. There is more talk, and after a bit, the two of them come to an understanding, he taking the butt of the proffered handgun with one hand while the other one grasps Jack's over a duffel bag filled with what looks to be a small arsenal backstage of an auditorium of some kind. _

_Another squeeze and the colors bleed together until only that swirling purple fog remains, only to be reformed into another vision…and another…and another…and another. He sees it all in a clear progression of increasingly nightmarish cruelty and bloodshed. Jack standing before an assembled crowd of furs, hands spread wide, his voice booming out, revving them up until they become a churning maelstrom of rage and bloodlust as he stands by, white fur glowing in the firelight, watching the rabbit at work. A moment later, Jack returns and draws him to his side, leading him into a tent in which a few others are waiting. They gather round a large map, Jack dictating their plans, indicating where each part will be sent. He stabs a finger viciously down on the right-hand portion of the map, looking to Ash and –_

_Now suddenly he's the one standing before the assembled soldiers instead of Jack, filling their heads with visions of blood-spattered glory and conquest. He pumps a fist into the air, rousing a cheer from them before they all charge towards a city, smashing through its defenses and overtaking its inhabitants in a flood, one of them ripping a red white and green flag from its stand and setting it ablaze. The scene jumps forward in time, after the battle, the remaining humans having been herded into the main square, pushed into rough approximations of lines. His troops, his boys, his posse, look to him for the signal, guns at the ready and oiled slides rack as he raises a hand and snaps his fingers. The air fills with the roar of machine gun fire. _

_Images and visions flash past his eyes at an insane speed, no longer forming from the fog, but rather continuing in an insane and never-ending stream. He sees machine guns rip through the ranks on both sides outside the smoldering ruins of a city whose streets appear to be made not from concrete but from water. He watches with horrified fascination as a young woman is dragged out of a crowd and thrown on her knees before him, a mewling child cradled against her bloody shirt. He listens with a detached expression to her pleas before finally dispatching the two of them with a bullet to the brain before turning his gaze to the rest of the assembled 'human scum'. His mind reels as he sees himself standing among a crowd of uniformed furs, all of them watching as he strikes a match and sets fire to a building full of wildly shrieking children, his face expressionless in the orange light. He feels his stomach lurch as watches himself beat a young man to death in the street, his nostrils flared, drinking in the putrid odor of the blood flying through the air as the butt of his gun smashes against his adversary's head again and again and again. He sees a hundred shootings, a thousand murders and cold-blooded killings, even more burnings and rapes…it seems to last forever, yet still, it goes on and on…and on. _

_It is too much, far, far too much and he is screaming. Screaming and screaming as he writhes and twists in Kane's grasp, trying desperately to free himself and put an end to this all-too-real horror movie where he is the slasher star. The monster laughs gleefully into his face as he continues to fight with no effect. He gags; the smell of Kane's breath is ghastly beyond belief, a whiff straight out of an open grave. His body burns like the fires of Hell itself, sweat pouring from him in rivers. What claws he has left he must now use, if only to save himself from madness. _

_His right hand shoots out, the clawed fingers burying themselves in the shaggy, filthy hair, gripping tightly, pulling the twisted face hanging above down closer to him. The other hand curls and flexes, and before Kane can retaliate, a fist is driven into his face with the force of a freight train striking a VW Beetle. A grimly satisfied snarl of primal satisfaction twists his muzzle as he feels the nose beneath his knuckles snap with a dull, wet crunch, a fountain of blood filling the air and spattering his face. Kane bellows like a moose, lurching away, hands flying from his prisoner's eyes to clutch at his newly broken face, blood gushing from the crocked nose in spurts._

_It is all the opening he will ever need. Heart pounding, muscles thrumming with a sudden rush of adrenaline, he seizes the opportunity with an iron fist. He turns, pushing himself to his feet as he faces Kane, his body laboring with the effort. Bloody hands plant themselves against a hairy torso and push, toppling the monster over onto his back with another cry. Kane rolls slightly on the ground, moaning in pain, and the sound ignites in him a hot stroke of pure, bright anger. Eyes narrowing, lips pulled back in a predatory snarl of hatred, he forces his body to act, his pain forgotten as he springs, landing hard on his enemy's chest, his knees pinning down arms that have suddenly gone slack. He grabs another handful of Kane's hair, forcing him to look, wanting to see the helpless expression on his bloody, disfigured face._

_Instead, the Sin lets out a dark chuckle of satisfaction, more blood dribbling out from between his liver-colored lips as he meets the other's furious gaze._ "Th…There you are…was wondering when…you'd s-show up, Butcher." _He lets loose a dry chuckle._ "Like I said…you ain't changed one bit since–" _Another blow to the face silences his prattle, knocking loose a few teeth as well. The beast lets out another of those maddening chuckles and he feels his blood begin to boil in response, his jaw locking in another snarl as he hits him again and again and again, fist crashing against Kane's face, more blood staining his already dirty fur._

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! _SHUT UP_!"

_His hand goes numb, the knuckles split and he can no longer clench the remaining fingers tight enough to do sufficient damage. Kane's face is a swollen mask of gore and swelling flesh, the red eyes burning dully in their sockets and still that infuriating chuckle comes from him like a dry crow's croak. A dark red mist clouds the edges of his vision and, driven by a blinding rage, he searches the ground around them. His seeking hand finds something…. Something heavy with jagged, unforgiving edges…and it is much bigger than a fist. He seizes it in both hands, hefting the long flat stone above his head, letting loose a howl of rage and pain so loud it echoes out across the barren, rocky fields for miles. _

_Down comes the stone, smashing flat against his quarry's face, eliciting another of those dull, wet crunches, the sound of a rotten pumpkin smashing against a sidewalk. It is not enough – still not enough! Muscles burning, heart racing, he hefts the stone again, bringing it down with another snarl, screaming out his plight through a swollen and bleeding throat, the words punctuated by successive blows, blood pounding at his temples as he rains down blow after blow after blow._

"ALL…THESE…_YEARS_…SONOFA…_BITCH_…DON'T...YOU…EVER… SHUT…_UP_!?!"

_Blood spatters his face, his hands, his chest, his hair, feeling sickly hot down here in this place of eternal fire as it soaks steadily into his fur. Slowly, the adrenaline fades away, his muscles turning to lead once more and bringing his pain back to full force. He tries to lift the stone again, to raise it high for one, final, decisive stroke... His heart pounds like a drum, lungs burning like those of a winded racehorse, head reverberating dully with the sound of his own screaming. Teeth locking, lips writhing in a growl of effort, he manages to lift the now crimson stone one last time, his broken body shaking violently with the effort, black spots jumping in and out of his vision. This is it, the last one! He will be free, free of the demon forever, free to – _

_A hand closes over his wrist, the fur beneath it feeling smooth and silky, sending a rush of warmth spreading throughout his body. An instant later, the scent of Lilacs penetrates the marsh of blood and snot clogging his nose. A voice like the coo of a Dove speaks from his right, the sound seeming to douse the hot fires of his anger like a bucket of cold water, banishing the red mist from his eyes._

"Ash…Oh, _Ashley_."

_He turns his haunted face to her, the bloodshot eyes tearing at the familiar sight. The stone sags limply in his hands to come to rest on the chest of the monster beneath him as he looks at her, transfixed. Central sits before him, angelic plumage folded behind her, body sheathed in an envelope of soft white light. Her dress is a simple long blue skirt and a matching shirt rolled to the elbows, but still she is fair beyond description, with fur that seems to outshine even the sun itself. Her expression is one of utter sorrow and a love deeper than any he has ever known and her eyes, those dark warrior's eyes, glisten with unshed tears that threaten to overspill and go running down her lovely face. _

"…Please…." _His voice is broken and jagged, robbed of its former soothing richness by the blood that now coats his throat and trickles steadily from the corners of his mouth._ "…Please…. Let me…" _He chokes slightly, his throat working horribly, visibly forcing his thick, stupid tongue to form the words._ "L-let me…f-f-finish it…."_ Tears of anguished desperation well in his eyes, carving deep furrows in the mess of blood and dirt that now stains his alabaster fur as they leak from his eyes._

"…No…." _She says, and the word is filled with heartbreaking tenderness. _"No, dear…no more." _Now tears of her own begin to drip slowly onto the folds of her dress, but she pays them no heed, her eyes never leaving his. Her velvety paws slide upwards, gently cupping his soiled face, the thumbs wiping at the tears that continue to spill from his tortured blue eyes, fingers burying themselves in his fur as she weeps for him._

_The stone made greasy with blood and hair slips for his relaxing hands and falls with a dull thud to the rocky floor. Below him, Kane gives one last triumphant, gurgling chuckle and fades slowly away, his body turning to smoke that escapes into cracks that litter the blasted land around them. He doesn't seem to notice, not even when the land itself begins to follow after the Sin, darkness slowly giving way to that wonderfully warming white light as they enter that holy rose patch again. His bloody, trembling hands somehow find their way to hers and he clutches at them weakly, his eyes streaming, lower lip quivering as he abruptly breaks down completely, first crying and then, sobbing hoarsely, great watery wails of despair pulled up from the deepest, darkest pockets of his mutilated body. _

"C…Cen-Central…." _His shoulders slump as his vision blurs, and he finds himself pressing against her for the second time, blindly seeking shelter and comfort in the warmth of her embrace. She holds him to her as tightly as a mother does her chap, scooping up his exhausted, feather-light body in her arms and folding her great wings about him in a blanket of her love._ "I…I…It's-s t-true…E-ev-v-very w-word he t-t-told m-me…" _He buries his face in her creamy fur, trying frantically to drown out the stench of his bloody past life with her heavenly musk._ "Oh G-g-god…I-it's a-all t-t-true!"

**Author's Note**:

My...that was certainly...powerful. Ash seems to be in dire straights here...can Central help him see the Truth? Tune in next time to find out!

This chapter was a lot of fun to write, but I struggled with it as well in some areas - mainly Kane's awakening his surpressed memories of his former life. It was a bit of a challenge to present what he did in a way that wouldn't drag on for a thousand years, but I don't think I did too bad. Just in case I might not have painted a clear enough picture for you, Ash was in charge of conducting the genocidal assault on the human race in Europe - hence the mention of Venice and the Italian flag. For those of you who don't read _Jack_, let me explain how the concept of a 'second life' works: even if a person goes to Hell after death, they can still redeem themselves in the eyes of God by aknowledging the evil in what they did and admiting that they were in the wrong, thereby being granted passage first into Purgatory, and then back to Earth once more to take another stab at life - only their second trip is much, much harder than their first.


	5. V

Yes, this is not a trick - I've FINALLY updated (after I forget how many months of making you guys wait, AGAIN - forgive the lateness). I don't have time to explain the many reasons why I've been so tardy in the updating of this fic, but rest assured, I'll tell you all when I return on the 10th of August. Anyway, read on and enjoy, I say! n.n

**V**

_He melts into her, losing himself in her scent, letting go of whatever decimated internal restraints might remain. He feels a slight shift, a warm breeze against his face, the feel of her drawing him close to her bosom. Vaguely, his shattered mind registers that she has stood and is winging the two of them out of this realm of eternal night. Around him, the air currents gossip among themselves as her silken wings bear them on, ever onward…. _

_He doesn't take much notice though – he can't. In the aftershock of his mercifully short episode of bloodlust, a good many doors in his mind have been slammed shut – and some of them bolted as well. Greedy, slobbering things scratch and mewl at some of these, trying to break through these mental roadblocks…but to no avail. His body is well aware of the dangers that lie in such an unguarded place, and has taken whatever steps necessary to thwart the marauding devils. For now, his mind – and more importantly, his sanity – remains intact. _

_But…wait a moment…. _

_Light now…. __Daylight?_

_…No. Too bright…too pure for that, no, this…this is Heaven's light. Or close to it anyway. Something akin to a throwback reflection, only instead of the sun, he feels something like a warm blanket surround him – soft and silky and strangely familiar. He presses closer to it, moving by instinct alone now. He tries to look, wants to see who's holding him…but ah, his eyes, the lids feel heavy, so very heavy and he can't open them, much as he wants to. He's just so tired. A scent snakes its way through the muddied mess of smoke and sulfur that lingers, sticking in his muzzle like a demonic spiritual booger…his nose twitches. Roses…. __Another twitch…the faintest of sniffs.__No…not just roses…something else…sweet and musky, like the smell of a good memory…Lilacs?_

"M…Mmm…" _his tongue feels as thick and useless as a piece of shag carpet; tastes like it too. He tries again._ "M…Momma…?" _He can't think; his lips move, forming the first word that comes stumbling out of that God-awful mind-mist like a drunken sailor on leave and deep in his cups. _

_A rustle of wings, silken feathers against his brow, there and gone almost before he can register the touch, strong arms cradling him, one hand at his back, the other wrapped protectively around his waist. __Fur against his face, the scent of Lilacs filling his nose, driving out that malign otherworldly odor.__ He presses closer still to the being that holds him like a babe, sensing that if he can stay here, just keep holding onto her…everything will be all right. _

_His bloody, dirty fingers clutch weakly, burying themselves in a soft pelt as his mouth moves again._ "…Momma…i-is it…?" _His throat hurts, burns like a wildfire and suddenly there is a strong taste of copper in his mouth as blood dribbles down his chin like thick syrup. _

_Another rustle of feathers, the hand at his back starting to move now, rubbing gently, lovingly._ "…Yes, dear…you're safe." _Voice soft in his ears, driving the mist back further still._

"I…I wanna…g-go h-home." _Hot, liquid fire burns his eyes as he tries to get closer, burying his face against her in his moment of child-like desperation._ "…P…Please, M-momma…" _Voice muffled by fur, essence of Lilacs filling his nose, taste of copper strong in his mouth._ "…I wu…wanna g-go home."

"Shh…shh…" _The hand slides over his back, rubbing between his shoulder blades as she begins to gently rock him back and forth, her soothing voice murmuring gently in his ears._ "…I know…I know you do…" _Furry lips against his brow, the cool tip of a moist nose poking into his hair as a hot tear or two tumbles down her cheeks and into his fur._ "…But I can't… it's not time yet…we're not ready for you…."

_A shiver tumbles through him, shaking his body like jell-o._ "I…can't see…" _A sob, low and hoarse like an old man's, grip tightening slightly as tears of terror start to cascade down his face._ "I…I'm afraid of the dark, Momma…m-make it go away…please…m-m-make it g-go away…."

_The arm about his waist moves to support his legs drawing him closer, body reclining against hers, the hand at his back moving up to cup his face, the touch sending a ripple of pleasure through him._ "…Ash…" _The fingers move up to brush gently at the hair lying against his forehead, seeming to take with it some of the feverish heat he feels baking off his brow as it passes._ "…I want you to open your eyes…."

"…I can't."

_The wings close around him, holding him closer still._ "Yes, you can…" _Her hand slides under his chin, __tilting his face up to hers. He feels a blast of hot air before her lips press against his briefly, transmuting some of her strength into him._ "Open your eyes, dear heart…you can do it. I believe in you…"

_For a moment more, he doesn't think he can, even with her support…it's just too much. Then, slowly, the lids roll __back,__ exposing a blur of colors that run together like badly mixed paint. He shudders, thinks to close his eyes again, when he feels her lips press against his again…and things start to change. Slowly, the ugly mass resolves itself, hues separating into distinct blotches that slowly start to form recognizable shapes. Outlines form and depth increases…and soon, he is looking up at her with his blood-bolted face and haunted POW's eyes. He licks his lips, more blood spilling over his chin and down his front as he tries to speak._

"C…Central?" _He blinks, looking up at her, taking in the reality of her presence._

"…Central." _Now tears begin to course down his cheeks once more as the memories come back to him in a nightmare tide of gore-spattered images of blood and desecration._

"…C-_Central_…!" _His voice breaks into a jagged treble of horror and grief, shoulders beginning to shake as his breathing grows ragged and he presses himself against her, sobbing hoarsely, completely broken. _

_Her arms move, circling around him as her wings follow suit and she draws him closer, trying desperately to comfort him, doing all in her power to calm the tidal flow of his sorrow. His head presses against her chest and his ears are assaulted with the rapid '_thud, thud, thud,_' of her wild heart as she nuzzles his cheek._

"Shh…shh…it's okay…it's okay…" _Her voice soft and soothing in his ears brings a hint of coherency to his state of mind and he finds himself at last able to form at least a few words with his thick tongue._

"I…I…K-Kan-n-ne…h-he…he…." _He shudders violently, voice still quaking._

"Shh… It's all right, Ashley…you're safe now…." _She plants a tender kiss against his burning brow, her scent thick and intoxicating._ "He's not here…but I am." _The feel of a brief, yet passionate kiss against his furry lips, a surge of unnamed power pouring into him, silken hands burying themselves in his fur as she comforts him._ "I won't let him hurt you anymore…I'll protect you…."

_He tries to speak, chokes and coughs violently. Blood stains her dress._ "I…I k-killed h-him-m…."

"No."

"…Y-yes…."

"No, please believe me, you didn't. I swear it on His love."

_A pause as he simply lies there, processing this newest development, his face still buried in her fur. Then:_ "…B-but I…I k-killed them…." _He shudders, his tears beginning to flow faster now as his sorrow takes hold once more._ "…I…I…I…"

_She hugs him, stroking a hand through his hair, rubbing gently at his back again even as she weeps, silent tears rolling slowly down her cheeks. She begins to rock him gently back and forth, back and forth, singing to him in a voice sweeter than any mortal's ever could be. Slowly he begins to quiet, his tears slowly fading to mere whimpers then to a steady, slightly labored breathing. He trembles a few times, and this too ceases. For a long time, he lies against her, listening to the melody she slips into his tattered ears then finally finds the strength to speak._

"…It's…it's all t-true…isn't it…?"

_A beat of almost intolerable silence then, reluctantly and with a sorrow even greater than his;_ "…Yes."

"I…I killed…killed them all? The….the women?" _A shaky inhalation followed by a watery exhalation._ "The…the ch-_children_…?"

_A pause as he feels her trying to maintain her control, even as her tears continue to cascade down on him from above._ "…Yes…."

_Long moments of considering silence, the roses around them silent, filling the air with their fragrant, pleasing aroma. Then:_ "I…I killed him b…before…didn't I?" _A pause as he swallows, throat working as __he visibly tries to hold it all together_. "Before…I died…the first time."

"Yes."

_Another of those shaky, watery breathes. He wants to ask her why, to ask what in the name of God would drive him to such unspeakable lengths of depravity as to murder so many in cold __blood…__but what's the point? He already knows the answer…did he not see it with his own eyes? _"Why didn't…you tell m-me…?"

_Silence from her, but that's all right. It's nothing but another stupid question on his part, anyway. He already knows the answer, just as he knows she serves a master higher than all of existence. He has realized something else too; he finally knows how he knew her…knew her from the moment he saw her for the first time, here, in this very field of heavenly design. _

_He swallows and there is an audible click in his throat._ "I…I don't un…understand…. If I…w-was in H-Hell…how d-did I…?"

"You repented and He forgave you, Ash." _She nuzzles him again, licking his cheek, her tail twitching, betraying her nerves._

_He finally looks up at her with his raw, red eyes and dirty, tear and blood-streaked face._ "…How…?" _A tear rolls down his cheek._ "How…could He? Wha…what I did…" _he shakes his head, ears splaying as another tear or two stains his already matted cheeks._ "How c-could He…forgive me?"

"Love." _Her hand moves from his hair to his cheek, gently running her fingers through his fur._ "He loves you, Ashley…more than I or anyone else can ever say."

_He looks away, the usual light burning in his eyes now reduced to a smoldering roach._ "I…I don't deserve it…I don't deserve His Love…I don't deserve Heaven…." _His face twists in a look of self-loathing._ "N…Not after what I've d-done…."

_Her silken wings enfold the two of them as she holds him close again, tipping his head up, forcing him __to__ meet her eyes._ "Ash…Ash, please, look at me…." _Slowly, he raises his head, his eyes locking with hers._ "All the innocent blood you spilled and the lives you took cannot be held against you, not now, not ever – for God has already shown He believes in your repentance and salvation by allowing you to return to earth a second time." _She kisses his cheek, licking away his tears._ "He loves you so very much….and you've shown your loyalty to Him by bearing so much in His name…."

_His hands, slimy with blood, clutch weakly at her, arms wrapping around her neck. A shudder racks his tortured body._ "…K…Kane's r-right th-though…I…I h-haven't c-changed since then…" _He coughs violently again. More blood stains her dress. He looks up at her, bloodshot eyes raw with sorrow, throat scorched by the fire burning in the blood running down the back of it._ "F-first Terk…now him…j-just like I k-killed all of them all those y-years ag-go…." _He looks away, face crumpling in self-loathing._

"Ash…"

_Another cough, less painful, but still bloody._ "I…I don't know why I…it…it just happened." _He swallows, feeling her trying to ease the pain and grief seeping from his fur like a noxious mist._

"Ashley…" _Gently, she turns his haggard face back to hers so he can meet her eyes._ "…Tell me something…why did you do what you did when you went to the market with Charity that day eight years ago?"

_He swallows, tries to speak, but the words won't come – his vocal cords are simply too badly damaged. He tries again, but to no affect. He tries one final time to answer, and this time, the words come to him._ "I…I attacked Terk…because he was going to…to rape that otteress to death if he'd…had his way…and I…I couldn't let that happen."

_She nods, a demure smile spreading across her lovely face._ "That's it exactly. Ash, that day you were driven to act for the sake of another, regardless of the great threat your actions posed on your own life. Your aim was never to kill Terk, only to keep him from causing more pain than he already had." _She kisses his forehead and draws him closer, her chin now resting atop his head._ "Despite what that Demon might've said to the contrary, that is not the way of a fur with evil in his heart." _Her delicate soot-colored hand rests against his head, fingers taming the tangled rat's nest of his hair._

"…That's…that's not the way it was…with Kane…." _He whimpers, tail tucking between his legs, his tattered ears splaying in shame. He risks a glance up at her before looking away again._ "…I…I'm not stupid…I know if you hadn't come…" _he swallows, his voice hitching in his throat._ "I…I would've b-beaten him to…to a b-bloody pulp…"

"Yes, you would have…but you didn't." _Her voice is soft, comforting, lips brushing against his ear as __her other hand goes to work rubbing and massaging his back once more, spreading that wonderful warming sensation throughout his body._

"…Only because you stopped me…."

"Ash…" _gently, the hand at his head slides under his legs, pulling him onto her lap before moving back up under his chin to tip his head upwards slightly so he can look her in the face._ "…Do you think Kane is a weak monstrosity?"

_He gives his head a little shake, for even he knows that those who serve the Serpent have their own tainted powers just as she and those like her have theirs._

"Then don't you think that if he'd wanted to stop you from beating him, he could have?" _She smiles tenderly down at him as she watches the light click on in his head._ "He showed you what he did to hurt you, Ash. He knew that by exposing you to all the evil you'd done so long ago, he could drive you into a corner and force you to revert to your most basic of instincts – survival. He wound you up like a bear trap and then pushed you until you bit, hoping that, in the depths of your rage and grief, you would commit the one act that would have the slightest chance of driving you away from His arms before it was too late – murder."

_He looks up at her, seeing the wisdom in her words and knowing they ring true even before he has time to really think about what she's saying; yet a shred of doubt remains with him nonetheless._ "…But, Central…it worked…he won…." _He looks away, tears once again beginning to spill down his face as his doubt begins to grow once more._ "I…I did it…I _was_ going to kill him." _He looks up at her, face fraught with despair._ "…How c-can I tell others of His teachings…if I can't e-even follow them myself in _either_ l-life…?"

_She hugs him tighter, leaning her head down and licking the salty tears from his cheeks again even as she sheds one or two of her own for him._ "Ash…the Son didn't go to earth to save those who were already saved and He doesn't choose perfect people to do His work…. Evil is a powerful enemy only so long as you allow it to use your shame against you…and already in the time we've been here, its power has grown weaker and weaker…. All you need do is ask for forgiveness as you have so many times before and you will truly be free of Kane's last scrap of influence."

_She kisses him once more, pressing her warm, furry lips against his, healing whatever she can as she pours all her undying love into his body. He gives in, sucking down all she has to give, relishing the taste of her, the feel of her silky fur against his own, the sudden, pure, white-hot energy he can feel flooding into him. He pulls away, looking up at her, a little of the old light burning in his eyes again. __His lips twitch in the ghost of a smile._

"…I did…and He has relieved me."

_He sits up a bit, feeling stronger, the dizzying feverish heat slowly leaving his body, his aching muscles relaxing as he moves so that she does not have to bear the whole burden of his weight – though he knows it is no real burden at all to one such as she. She returns his smile, stroking his tattered ears, relief and indescribable joy radiating from her creamy coat. His smile grows a bit, becoming a genuine display as he feels a sudden weight lift from his shoulders…only to be replaced by a strange feeling of exhaustion. Slightly puzzled, but not alarmed in the least, he leans against her as he feels himself slowly beginning to drift off…yet there is one last thing he needs to ask…._

"…Central…Where is she…Where is my…?"

_She lays a finger against his lips, shushing him gently._ "Don't worry, Ashley…you will see her again soon."

"…How…?" _he starts to ask, but it just seems like too much effort and he barely has the strength to keep his eyes open, much less finish the question._

"Shh…rest now…."

_He nods, surrendering at last to the overcoming feeling of absolute contentment that beckons him down into the depths of a blessedly dreamless sleep. He smiles dreamily up at her, his hand finding hers and gripping, feeling his love and gratitude for her burn within him._

"Thank you…for everything…."

_She plants a final kiss on his brow and begins to rock him gently back and forth as his eyes finally slip closed again and he drifts away, her final words following him in a whisper of silken wings._

"…Soon, Ashley…soon…. You're almost home."

**Author's Note**: Well, there it is - Part 5. All in all, even after going over this, I still think I could've done better...but, like always, that's probably just me. Your opinions are the only ones that matter as far as this goes, after all! . So tell me...how did I do?


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